Chasing Aloha
by Nikki Godwin
Drenaline Surf novella #2
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Copyright © 2018 Nikki Godwin.
All rights reserved.
First edition: February 3rd,2018
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personalenjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away toother people. If you would like to share this book with anotherperson, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Ifyou’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was notpurchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.comand purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’swork.
This book is a work of fiction. Names,characters, places, and incidents either are products of theauthor’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance toactual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, orlocales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
For the ones seeking redemption and the oneswho help them find it
Chapter One – Kale
The look on Nanna’s face was the worst. When I walkedout of the terminal and saw the sadness in her eyes, I relivedevery moment of the last few weeks in an instant. She turned herhead downward, unable to make eye contact with me, and then shereached out toward me and pulled me into a hug. But even then, shecouldn’t look at me.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t bring myself to lookat Kapuna. I didn’t want to see the disappointment on display,scrawled across my grandfather’s face. I’d seen enough of that tolast a lifetime. It was one person after another in California. Mylawyers, the police department, my parents, Vin Brooks, theHooligans, Joe McAllister… On every face, in every glance, totaldisappointment.
The only thing worse than seeing their pain waslooking in the mirror and seeing the shame on my own skin. I alwaysprided myself on my confidence, proud of who I was and who I wasgoing to be, and now I want nothing more than to shed my skin andbe someone else. It’s hard to look into my own eyes and see myreflection staring back, questioning every decision I’ve made untilthis point. I’d trade anything to go back and undo the damage Icaused.
Those things don’t matter now, though. The only thingthat matters in this moment is picking up cigarette butts and chipbags. I expected better of Hawaiians, but the beaches here are astrashed as the ones back in Horn Island. I reach down with mygloved hand and pick up a beer bottle before dropping it into thebag of recyclable items.
In the distance, a line of media vans sit alongsidethe beach, waiting to capture me in my misery. They weren’t allowedin the airport when I returned to Hawaii, but they were staked outin the parking lot, their flashes ricocheting off of my family’sfaces. I kept my head down and my feet moving, but that didn’t stopthem from airing the footage on all of the local news stations thatnight.
I drop a plastic bottle into my bag and dare toglance up at the water. The waves roll in, pounding against theshore with the typical Hawaiian beating that I missed so much. Iguess the joke’s on me. I missed these waves to the point itphysically hurt inside of me, and here I am, closer to them thanI’ve been in years, and I can’t even touch them. I haven’t felt theocean since the days leading up to my arrest. To say I’m a bit stircrazy would be the understatement of the century, but I don’t dareshow my face in the water right now.
I can only imagine the gossip ifsomeone caught me holding a surfboard or venturing into the lineup.As of this morning, the surf forums were still discussing mysituation – mostly how they think I got off too easily and deservejail time for my role in what happened. It’s ironic how everyone“hates” Colby Taylor yet they were all so quick to jump ship whenthe news of my involvement went public. Just prior to the blackmailscandal, he was thetalk of the forums. His parents’ arrival in the Cove only landedhim more interviews and magazine covers. Blackmail scandal? Thatled to another million Instagram followers. It seems as if anypublicity is good publicity for him. I couldn’t be solucky.
But then again, in a way, I was. They could havethrown the book at me. They could’ve said I had something to dowith A.J.’s wreck, which would’ve been the worst allegation. Yeah,I lied, and I passed information along, and I stuck the photo onAlston’s car. I played the Hooligans for fools, and I harmedShark’s legacy in the process. But I never would’ve physically hurtsomeone, especially A.J. He’d been through too much already. In theend, that’s what saved me. I had no involvement with his wreck, andI could bring down the people who did. Vin Brooks cut me slack whenthe law didn’t want to. For that, I’m lucky.
Another wave breaks on the shore before drifting backout to rejoin the ocean. I envy it, the way a wave can crash into amillion drops of water and slip back into rhythm, becoming a newwave that can crash and burn all over again, continually findingredemption. I don’t feel like I’ll ever be part of the ocean again,and if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t deserve to be. I’llforever be the guy who betrayed Drenaline Surf, and I’d rather beanything but that.
Chapter Two – Leilani
I wring my hair out as I abandon the ocean. Theclumpy sand sticks to my feet as I trek back to the house. The sunglows against my skin, but it usually does about this time.Mornings are routine around here. My brother Keiko is up beforeeveryone else. His morning surf ends just as mine begins. He’llshower and make a pot of coffee before my parents wake. Mom likesher coffee black, and Dad complains about the smell. He’s neverbeen a coffee drinker. My sister Kalani always sleeps in becauseshe works a later shift, but she’ll be hitting the lineup aroundnoon.
I turn the knob and water bursts from the outsideshowerhead, rinsing away the scent of salt water from my skin. Itwist my bikini around, making sure no traces of seaweed are leftin hidden
